


More Than Life That We Bleed For

by Lion_owl



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: 2 brief mentions of blood, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Episode Related, Episode: s04e12 Babel One, Episode: s04e13 United, M/M, seriously this is angsty as fuck.. i'm sorry, this story wrote itself i am merely a vessel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 05:35:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11639985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lion_owl/pseuds/Lion_owl
Summary: Archer is killed in the Ushaan, and now Shran must deal with the consequences of his actions





	More Than Life That We Bleed For

Ignoring the angry protestations of Commander Tucker, he marched into sickbay, rage boiling in his veins. Doctor Phlox had assured him over the comm that Archer wasn’t going to make it, and he needed to see him, one last time – preferably before he died, so they could speak.

The curtain was drawn, and he shoved it aside. Archer was lying on the biobed, on his deathbed, the colour drained from his face. The sight made the beast inside Shran roar; sorrow, fear, anger, hatred. He tried really hard not to blame it on the Tellarites – that isn’t what Archer would want – tried to convince himself that this wasn’t their fault.

“Shran,” the utterance of his name was so quiet he almost missed it. Those fading lips had barely moved.

“Archer.” He let his own voice drop to a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

“I understand.” His breath was shallow, barely there, the words sounded like each one caused him pain. “Take my hand.”

Shran did as he was told. Touching hands meant very little to Andorians, but to antennae-less species such as Humans… well, at least he knew he was forgiven. He didn’t deserve that.

He lifted Archer’s hand into his own, and it was stone cold, the life seeping from him. Shran drooped his antennae as he leaned just slightly over the man whose love he could now never know. He had always hoped that one day something could happen between them, but now that hope was gone, dripping away with the deep red blood on his blade.

“Make peace with them,” Archer whispered, his eyelids fluttering closed. “Tellar… can be your… ally.”

And with that, the intermittent beep on the console became a steady note, and Shran allowed himself a brief moment to weep before pulling his hand away and steeling his expression. He’d lost his ship, most of his crew, and the two people closest to him, all in the space of a few days. If he couldn’t punish the Tellarites for this, he’d find whoever was responsible for the so-called marauder ship, and make sure they tasted agonising pain before their death.

The curtain was pulled back, and Phlox and Tucker stood on the other side looking more than forlorn.

“I’ll need a phial of his blood,” he demanded of the Doctor. He’d promised Archer he’d take it to Andoria and he intended to make good on that promise.

“Why should we give you that?” Tucker wanted to know. His voice was hoarse, his face red and swollen. “You did this.”

Shran scowled, determined not to rise to the bait, and tried to leave sickbay, but Tucker blocked his path. “I didn’t think you’d actually do it. I shouldn’t have given you the benefit of the doubt.”

“Out of my way, pinkskin,” he hissed, but the man didn’t budge.

“He loved you, you know,” Tucker told him, and the words cut like a ushaan-tor twisting in his gut.

“I love him, too,” Shran admitted, against his better judgement: it wasn’t really any of the pinkskin’s business.

“Then why did you do it?” Tucker demanded. “Why would you kill someone you love?”

He thought of when Archer had come to see him, to tell him of what he planned to do.

“I’ll have to kill you,” he’d pointed out, allowing a pleading look into his eye. “You’re my friend.” He’d never before told anyone he considered Archer a friend, much less the man himself. _Don’t make me have to kill you,_ he’d left unspoken, _I don’t want that._

But Archer had accepted it and insisted on taking the Tellarite’s place anyway.

“He didn’t leave me any choice,” he told Tucker. “He knew what he was getting into.” He turned and stormed out of the door, and neither Tucker nor Phlox made any move to stop him.

He thought about going back to his guest quarters, but he let his feet carry him and found himself standing, instead, outside the door to Archer’s quarters; where they’d ended up sometimes, after sharing dinner in the Captain’s mess or after a joint mission, where they would drink a little more than was necessarily allowed by regulations, where they could just be themselves rather than the officers they had to be with everyone else, and where they could, as Archer would often put it, ‘drop the shop talk’.

Many a pleasant evening had passed in that room, and while Shran had always kept a safe distance on the sofa, he’d watched Archer lounging on the bed, clearly feeling far too safe, and wondered what would happen if he were to go over there.

How would Archer have reacted?

Shran had always envisioned being pushed away in disgust, but after what Tucker had said only minutes ago, he wondered if maybe there would have been a chance. Maybe Archer would have wanted him to go over there.

Well, it was too late now.

It was probably wrong of him, but he keyed in the door code – something he may have noticed looking over Archer’s shoulder in the past – and slipped into the cabin.

It looked lived-in. There were some clothes strewn across the sofa, a half eaten meal and several books on the small table, waiting for someone to come back and put them away.

Guilt. Remorse.

He lay down on the bed, and the canine yipped and jumped up beside him, curling into his side. He’d come to be almost fond of Porthos over the years, and as he let his hand slide along the dog’s smooth fur, he wondered how friendly Porthos would behave towards him were he to become aware that Shran had been responsible for Archer’s death.

Realising he’d deprived this poor innocent animal of his lifelong companion and, in Phlox’s words, best friend, the feelings of guilt and remorse intensified.

Tucker was right. He’d done this.

 

 _He is back on the bridge of_ Kumari _, and they are under attack, taking heavy damage, and weapons are down. Just when it seems hopeless, the attack stops and he turns to the viewscreen in time to see_ Enterprise _swoop in and destroy their opponents in a single blow._

_This isn’t right; the pinkskins would never do that._

_They’re being hailed, and Jonathan’s face appears on the screen. “That’s four you owe me,” he says, his smile broad, his eyes glittering._

_“Indeed,” Shran says in a heavy voice. “Why don’t you come over here and we’ll see how I can_ repay _you?” he suggests, unaware of his crew witnessing his innuendo._

_The two of them are alone in Shran’s quarters, and Jonathan is stripping off slowly, his body looking exactly the way Shran had imagined, had fantasised, it might look under that blue uniform._

_“Gorgeous,” he appraises, beckoning Jonathan over to the bed where he lies, himself already naked, and Jonathan complies, straddling him and bending over so their faces are close and he can wind an antenna through Jonathan’s short hair as they move together, their bodies convulsing with desire._

_He’s reaching for the knife on his bedside table, and he can’t stop himself as he stabs his partner with it._

_“I understand,” Jonathan whispers as scarlet soaks into the sheets and the light leaves his eyes._

 

Shran woke up with a start.

He shook his head in an attempt to banish the horrible images from his nightmare. It was a moment before he realised he’d fallen asleep lying on Archer’s bed, and wished he could have said that while the man had still been alive. He scoffed at himself. Pathetic.

In a very Human display he’d picked up from Archer, he sighed, before pushing the soundly-sleeping canine away from him and got up, leaving the cabin for the last time.

It was late enough that hopefully by now the mess hall would be empty – he had no desire to run into anyone at this moment – so he made his way there, finally giving into his hunger. When he got there he found it did indeed appear to be empty, so he got himself something to eat, some Human food he’s not familiar with – but didn’t care – and sat down to eat it.

“May I join you?” the facts that the question was asked in perfect Andorian and that he recognised the voice did not belong to any of his remaining crew pointed to only one person.

“Ensign Sato,” he said curtly, his voice tight. She took it as an affirmative and pulled out one of the other chairs, sitting down and placing a mug of something foul-smelling on the table. He eyed it warily, his left antenna twitching towards it.

“Coffee,” she stated.

“What do you want?”

“I saw you come in here and I thought I’d come and check on you, if you’re okay.”

“Why would you care?” he asked, genuinely baffled as to what the answer could possibly be.

“You’ve lost someone close to you.”

“At my own hands!” he hissed. “I thought your lot hates me now.”

“Don’t think that Trip speaks for all of us. I’m not a fan of your Ushaan ritual, but I respect that it is part of your tradition, and I respect the Captain’s decision, even…” she paused, casting her eyes around the room. “even if I do miss him terribly.”

What had he done?

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! I took the title from the song [traitor in me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eg5xXnuw9EQ) by [alteredsky](https://www.instagram.com/alteredsky/) (who you should totally [check out](https://alteredsky.bandcamp.com/) because they are incredibly talented and also wonderful, lovely people)
> 
> Anyway please let me know what you think of the story! my first ever archer/shran story, but i have many more planned. they're the otp


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